


Flash

by LoveIsGone



Series: Moments [1]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:39:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsGone/pseuds/LoveIsGone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...your heart is in her hands, even if we both know it beats for me and mine for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flash

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping that this is a start of a series of drabbles to help with the ideas I have knocking around in my head.

Tabloids and paparazzi, they all take pictures of you with her. You gaze at her adoringly and she _blushes_ , head down, trying to hide the way her cheeks flush in your presence. Their cameras flash, focusing in on your fingers intertwined in hers, hoping for a good angle so they can publish the clearest picture of your relationship.

You sweep a strand of hair from her face and they all zoom in, crazy for the money shot. It's like a feed frenzy, a drop of blood in the water and they're all circling, all their lights on you, flooding the scene.

And she's looking absolutely radiant because she's glowing with the affection you shower her with by being so open in public.

I can't lie and say that it doesn't hurt me to see.

I want to be bitter. But how can I be when I know that your heart never really - _truly_ \- belonged to me and me alone.

Those pictures... Those worthless pictures don't show the hidden side of you. The side of you that could have loved only me if it wasn't for the stigma that's attached to what we could've had. They don't show the way I ache for you every single moment of every single day. They don't show the way you smile at me, like your entire world has been made better cause you're with me.

No, those moments are mine.

Like treasures that I stow away. Secrets that I have to keep for the sake of our images.

I already know how this'll all play out when the moment you project for the masses is over. You'll excuse yourself from the event and, eventually, I'll find you at my door in the middle of the night, after having ditched everyone else around you.

You'll stand there, looking apologetic, and I'll pretend as if the whole display you put on didn't faze me. I'll pretend not to be bothered a single bit, even if the ache is deep and sharp.

I'll stand there and you'll pull me into your warm embrace, the scent of your cologne sparking the nostalgic fire that always flares up when you're near.

You'll say, "I'm sorry."

So many years together and it's still the same damn story, same damn words filling in all the gaps we have between us.

But I'll accept your apology - give in each and every single time - and there's nothing you won't be able to take from me. I'll give you everything in the moments I have with you because this is the only way we can love - in private, in secret.

I don't need the bright, exposing lights and super focused lenses to tell me that you love me just as much as I do you because I can feel it in every action you take with me. And, for now - maybe for the rest of our lives or for however long this _thing_ runs its course - it'll be enough as long as I can force my heart to keep remembering that you're hurting too.


End file.
